Evolution
by jannikajade
Summary: He watches her when he shouldn't, watches her when he should be watching his girlfriend. Troypay. One Shot.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing at all

**Author's Note: **Just a little Troy/Sharpay one shot for the lovely Moirariordan's birthday!

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He watches her when he shouldn't, watches her when he should be watching his girlfriend. He watches her when she's on stage, watches her dance and sing and radiate energy and passion and life, watches her because he can't turn away. He watches her in class, watches the way she throws her hair over her shoulder and makes comments under her breath to Ryan, putting more bricks in the walls she keeps around herself. He watches her walk down the hall, watches the way she feeds off the way the students part and the way people stare, the way she seems to grow taller with every step she takes. He watches her talk to friends in the cafeteria, watches her smile at everyone but at no one at all. He's fascinated by her.

She watches him every chance she gets, watches him even though she knows he doesn't want her. She watches him on stage, watches the way he always pretends he hates every minute of it, until he starts to sing and she can see him change right before her eyes. She watches him in class, cracking jokes with his fellow Wildcats and pretending he doesn't have a care in the world. She watches him talk to Gabriella in the hall, watches the way she touches his arm and leans into him. She watches it when he smiles the whole student body seems to smile back him. She watches him in the gym, giving his all, watches him look at all the people around him as if he's waiting for one of them tell him he doesn't have to try so hard anymore. She can't stop watching him.

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He talks to her in whispers. He pulls her aside at rehearsals and asks her questions about the choreography, leaning in closer than he should. He stops her after to class and makes awkward jokes and she looks at him like she's trying to decode him. He catches up to her the hall and tries to thinks of ways to compliment her clothes, or her shoes, or just her, without sounding like an idiot. He calls her on the phone when he's alone, hands shaking the first time he dials the numbers he got from an amused Ryan. He talks to her until late into the night, until she reminds him she needs her beauty sleep. He wants to write her notes in class, he wants to tell her every little thing that happens to him and he wishes he didn't always have to whisper.

She's always amazed when she talks to him. She's amazed because he's started talking to her at all, and she has to stop herself from asking him why. She can't believe it when he tries to make jokes and small talk, like he really wants her attention. She can't figure out what he's doing or where it's all going, but for the first time in her life, she decides to let someone else take the lead. She's caught off guard when he calls her on the phone, when he starts calling her every night, starts calling her and talking for hours. She's surprised to find out how much they have in common, amazed at how much about him she never knew. She still doesn't know what's going on, why he's calling, why he's telling her his secrets or why all of the sudden it feels like he needs her, but she thinks he might tell her soon, as long as she keeps listening.

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He touches her when he doesn't need to. He touches her arm when they talk at school, in their whispered conversations back stage. He lets his limbs brush up against hers when they sit together. He holds onto her for a beat longer than he should when they dance, until she yells at him for ruining the choreography. He loves the feel of her skin, it's impossibly soft and it doesn't go with the rest of her at all. She's intense, sharp and focused, but she has the softest skin of anyone he's ever known and it fascinates him. He tells her because he can't help himself, and she says something about expensive creams and lotions that he doesn't really understand. He doesn't believe her anyway, he's convinced that it's not the creams at all, it's just her. So he lets his fingers trace up and down her arm, even though he really shouldn't, and she watches him the whole time. She doesn't blush or giggle, she just watches him, and that makes it even harder to pull his hand away when other people's voices reach his ears.

She lets herself enjoy his touches, even though she's sure it's a bad idea. She's pretty sure she should pull away, or demand an explanation, but when they're touching, all her objections die in her throat. She can't tell him to stop because she wants more. She wants to lean into him, to wrap herself in him. Her fingers itch to touch every inch of him, to make it so they're skin to skin and to see if maybe then she could finally, fully understand him and what he wants. So she touches him just as much as he touches her. She grabs his hand and pulls him off stage under the pretense of yelling at him. She touches his knee when they talk, squeezing it to make her points, sometimes letting her hand drift up and down his leg, just a little. He always looks down at her hand when she does, and swallows, and bites his lip and she grins. When he lifts his head back up to look at her, his normally calm blue eyes look like fire, and it makes her shiver and wish she could make him look at her like that forever.

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He kisses her reverently, kisses her like he's afraid she'll disappear. He kisses her accidentally the first time, meaning to kiss her cheek, or her forehead, but somehow he ends up with his lips on hers. He kisses her and he never wants to pull away, but for the first time in all of this, she stops him. She pulls back and when he looks at her, he shakes his head and puts a hand on her lips because she doesn't have to say a word. He can't do this to her, he knows she deserves more, more than him at all, and so much more than him when he's still someone else's boyfriend. He promises her he'll think, promises her he'll make a decision, and then he kisses her again, longer this time. He pulls her in and cups her face and tells her how sorry he is and then he kisses her until the free period bell rings. A week later she kisses him before he gets out an explanation and he doesn't know if she's heard the gossip or if he can see it on his face or both, but he doesn't really care. He kisses her back and he means it more than he's ever meant anything else in his life.

She lets her dignity slip, just a little, when she kisses him. She lets her arms go around his neck, she lets him pull her into him and it's a little awkward and they're off balance and she doesn't' care. She kisses him with all the energy and passion she puts into theater, and sometimes it's messy and desperate and wanting and her hair comes undone and her clothes wrinkle, but she kisses him anyway. She kisses him until she has to come up for air, and gasping isn't very ladylike either but he doesn't seem to mind at all. She kisses him at random and just because she feels like it, no matter where they are, even though she's always thought public displays of affection were tacky. She still does, but she's pretty sure they're so hot together that no one will mind, and besides, sometimes waiting until they're alone feels like it might be torture, the slow and painful kind.

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He still watches her all the time. He watches her and it's even better now, because he can see through all her walls. He watches her and knows what she's thinking and he knows all the things that are hiding underneath the glitter and the hair tossing and it makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. He watches her dance and sing and he knows just how real all that passion is. He watches her and he thinks that she does it backwards, because she's only herself when she's on the stage. He tells her his theory and she laughs at him. He tells her it's one of the things he loves about her and she slides into his arms and kisses him. Then she presses her forehead against his and smiles and he thinks that this, without a doubt, is his favorite view.

She smiles when she watches him now. She smiles because he still lights up the halls when he laughs. She smiles because his friends still follow him around like he can do no wrong, no matter how many times he's shattered their expectations. She smiles because he's always catching her eye and grinning and creating their own private world, even if it is just for a second. She smiles because watching him is like watching pieces of puzzle drift apart from each other and then almost come back together, except that the angles are all wrong and only she can make them fit together.


End file.
